


Hollowed Prophecies

by ArSommers



Series: The Tale of the Bear and the Dragon [4]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Prophecy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-26 17:24:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19772950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArSommers/pseuds/ArSommers
Summary: Daenerys is told a prophecy that is both chilling and hopeful.





	1. Chapter 1

As Daenerys strolled through the streets of Meereen with Jorah and ten of the Unsullied, she reflected on the time she spent in the city. There had been ups and downs, as well as times she failed and succeeded. But in the end the people of the city were now free, and in that she considered her short reign there a success. Of course, the city had a long way to go to recover from the horrors of slavery, but she had the upmost confidence that Daario could deal with any issues that arose. Besides, it wasn’t as if she was leaving him alone, as he would be advised by noble families and some of the Unsullied.  
Still, Daenerys would miss her time in the markets. She’d knew Dragonstone was secluded, which in turn meant she needed to take a number of cooks, seamstresses, and people of other various professions to the island.  
As Daenerys was relishing the sights of the city she came upon a cloaked figure begging in the streets. “Excuse me miss,” the voice, which sounded like a raspy old woman, said, “Could I trouble you for a copper?”  
Moved with pity, Daenerys reached into her purse and pulled out a couple coins of gold. “Here,” Daenerys offered, “Please take these,”  
A hand reached out and grabbed Daenerys by the arm, pulling her close to the beggar’s face as the coins fell to the ground. Knowing that she’d asked the Unsullied not to linger too close and that Jorah was half a block away admiring the work of a swordsmith, Daenerys was about to call for their aid when she noticed the now unshielded face of the beggar. It was no one she knew, but something about the old woman’s eyes reminded her of Mirri Maz Dur.  
“You seek a place unlike anything you’ve ever known before,” the woman said, “Yet part of your heart remains set on events that happened in these lands across the sea,”  
Daenerys tried to say something, but her voice caught in her throat. Was this woman a witch? If that were the case, she wanted nothing to do with this woman’s magic. Daenerys tried to pull free but the woman’s grip tightened.  
“You seek a throne, but you also wish for things you believe you cannot have,” The woman spoke as if she were reading a text written across Daenerys’ face. “Mark my words Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. It is only when the magic is no more than you may receive what has been taken away,”  
“Are you all right Khaleesi?” Daenerys spun around to find Jorah staring at her in confusion.  
“The woman here,” Daenerys said accusingly, “She-” Daenerys stopped short when she saw the woman was gone. The only evidence that the conversation had taken place were the golden coins scattered across the ground. “There was an elderly beggar here in a brown cloak who grabbed my arm,” Daenerys said, straightening herself to regain her regal composure. “She must have fled,”  
Jorah nodded at four of the surrounding Unsullied, who stalked off in search of anyone who met that description. Jorah would have gone himself, though his legs were still healing, and with the bewildered look lingering in Daenerys’ eyes he did not want to leave her alone. “Are you hurt?” he asked instead.  
“No,”  
“You’re trembling,” Jorah said, his eyebrows creasing in worry.  
“I’m fine,” Daenerys crossed her arms in hopes that would alleviate the timorous motions. “Let’s just head back to the palace,”  
Perhaps, Daenerys through as she walked back, It is good I am leaving Meereen after all.


	2. Chapter 2

A magnificent supper had been prepared that night: roasted boar, corn simmered in butter, crushed chickpeas mixed with lemon juice, a fresh cheese wheel, apple tarts, and Tyroshi pear brandy. Yet Daenerys hardly touched any of her food, as the words of the beggar remained at the forefront of her thoughts: “It is only when the magic is no more than you may receive what has been taken away,”  
Ever since the death of Drogo and Rhaego, Daenerys had been wary of prophecies. She had been told her son would conquer the world, yet he had died before he even had a chance to take a single breath. Prophecies could be broken, and they could be interpreted incorrectly.  
Still, this new prophecy…or could it be a warning… shook Daenerys to the core. What magic would there have to be no more of? Daenerys didn’t deal with magic. Did the woman mean magic in the world as a whole?  
On the other hand, Daenerys speculated what the woman meant by “what had been taken away”. Much had been taken throughout her life. Was it a physical item like the throne, or could it be any of the people she’d lost? Daenerys had every intention of reclaiming the throne, and she also knew that nothing could bring back the people in her life who had passed away.  
It wasn’t until the meal concluded that Daenerys finally had time alone with Jorah to discuss what had happened in the market.  
“I’m less worried about what a stranger said as opposed to what could have happened today,” Jorah said honestly. “The woman could have harmed you,”  
“She was elderly and frail,” Daenerys said. “Besides, I refused to have the Unsullied attached to my side every time I stepped beyond the palace walls as if I were some helpless maiden,” Daenerys walked onto the deck and stared at the city before her. “It was the beggar’s eyes,” she confessed after a moment. “Something about them reminded me of Mirri Maz Duur,”  
“Mirri Maz Duur is dead,” Jorah said simply. “She cannot cause us any further harm,”  
“I’m well aware of that,” Daenerys said. “But what do we truly know of her? Perhaps this was a relative I encountered today, or someone she was close with,”  
“Did the beggar try to persuade you to do something?” Jorah asked.  
“No,”  
“Then I don’t believe there is much we can do,” Jorah said. “The woman’s words, even if they meant anything, have not left us much to go on,”  
“Then why would she say anything to me in the first place?” Daenerys inquired, more to herself that Jorah.  
“There are many here who wish for you to stay,” Jorah answered. “Perhaps she meant to frighten you so that we would not depart the city,”  
“Nothing can stop me from sailing to Westeros,” Daenerys said bluntly.  
Jorah smiled. She could be so determined when she spoke of the Iron Throne. “I know that,”  
Daenerys felt some of the unrest leave her. What Jorah spoke was true. The beggar’s warning didn’t allow any courses of action for them to take.  
“Thank you,” Daenerys said. “I am grateful for your counsel. I always have been,”  
Jorah embraced his wife, allowing his chin to rest upon her head. She felt the tenseness in her body begin to relax. Nothing in the world made Daenerys feel safer than being in her knight’s arms.  
“I’ll always be here for you,” Jorah promised. “Whether you need counsel or anything else in the world,”  
“Then may I ask one other thing of you tonight?”  
“Certainly,”  
Daenerys pulled back and looked Jorah in the eyes. “Teach me how to wield a sword,” she said. “Anyone can wave a weapon to protect themselves, but I will be the Queen of Westeros soon. While I do not plan to ride into battle with the Unsullied and the Dothraki, I should know how to defend myself and the people around me should the need arise,”  
Jorah smiled even wider this time. Daenerys knew how much swordsmanship meant to him, and she had expected nothing less. “I most certainly can do that,”  
“You are by far the greatest swordsman I know,” Daenerys said earnestly. “It would be a privilege to learn the art from you,”


End file.
